


Leave It to Weaver

by LtIrrelevant



Category: E.R.
Genre: AU, Abby's POV, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 14:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12483640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtIrrelevant/pseuds/LtIrrelevant
Summary: [Did the aftermath of the Romano incident make me see that she’s more than just Kerry Weaver MD? Perhaps her being so exposed by the drama had me seeing a bit of who she really is beyond the lab coat and the bitching at Malucci. This is a woman who was dealt a shitty hand in life, but she still fought on, persevered, and conquered; She’s not easily intimidated and isn’t easily slowed down by her crutch. She’s smart, confident, and tough. This is who Kerry is, and I understand now that I think I like what I see.Even though I shouldn’t.]Rated Teen and up for language and sexual themes.This is AU Season 8ish. No Sandy. No Abby/Luka  or Abby/Carter either. This is a highly uncommon pairing of our favorite E.R. ladies, but I just had to write it.





	Leave It to Weaver

It had taken longer than most gossip takes to travel here, but when word of the Legaspi/Weaver disaster ultimately reached the ER, I was honestly surprised.

Kerry Weaver and Kim Legaspi were a thing; Weaver was into women it seemed. Well, they used to be a thing at some point. The two doctors had broken up, apparently, but there it was. _Weaver’s gay._

Weaver had been sparsely seen for a few days after the rumor leaked and was, of course, the subject of most gossip. Some dismissed the rumor right away, claiming that there’s no way she could be gay because she was married to a man once. Some, like Carter and Luka, chose not to comment out of respect for their superior. Neela and Chen were too proper to say anything, even if they had something pressing to say about it. Randi had no qualms about commenting and did so freely, offering probably the most profound insight on the subject: At least Weaver had been getting laid.

On the outside, I had nothing to say about it. I carefully controlled my demeanor and kept busy while the others bickered and betted. Inside, however, I was not so serene.

Something had stirred in me, something that I hadn’t felt or thought about in years.

I escaped to the cafeteria for my break, thankful for the solitude. I sat heavily in my seat and rubbed at my eyes, trying to erase the images that had populated in my head of Weaver in the throes of passion with Legaspi. Images that came unbidden and hard, bringing back memories from my own past that I had tried to forget about long ago.

It’s not really a commonly known fact, but I’d been with other women before also. I had started my sexual exploration in high school and fooled around with a few girls. A few short years before I had stupidly married Richard in med school, there was Anna.

Anna was my artsy grunge goddess of a girlfriend in the 90s when I was in college and I fucking loved her. She was a transplant to the Chicago area from Seattle to study fine art and she was all plaid flannel, Doc Martens, ripped jeans, and angst; There was something about her that had reeled me in and I was hopelessly smitten those two blissful years.

Our relationship was set to a background of the finest music of the day: Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Collective Soul, Alice in Chains. She played guitar for me, took me to concerts, rolled perfect joints, and wrote me poetry while we waited for the red dye to set in her blonde hair.

It was the same shade as Weaver’s hair.  That _had_ to be what it was that led me down this path of nostalgic destruction.

Anna finished college, then she moved back to Seattle and moved on from me. She ripped a chasm in my heart when she had to leave, but I wasn’t willing to move to Washington and she wasn’t willing to stay in Illinois. She had an excellent career opportunity back home that I couldn’t let her pass up for me, so I had to let her go. I conditioned myself to get over her, to forget her and move on after the demise of our relationship, but the truth is I don’t think I ever did. I never really stopped loving her, I just packed the memory of her deep down, layered under all the shitty relationships I had after her.

I finished the rest of my shift on auto-pilot, wondering what became of Anna Matthews after all this time. I thought back to when we used to lay in bed together, in post-coital bliss, and tell each other our hopes and dreams for the future.

Did she become an important fixture in the art world like she wanted? Was her artwork on display all over the globe like she used to dream of? Was she still the creatively rebellious redhead with a penchant for Starbucks coffee?

Does she ever think of me?

I was in a daze when I clocked out, lighting a cigarette as soon as I exited out into the brisk October evening. A lovely sunset was painted across the sky and I didn't have any particular plans or rush to get anywhere, so I loitered around the basketball hoop to finish my smoke before getting on the El. I was debating what kind of take out to pick up on my way home when a voice called out to me that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Those things will kill you.” I looked up at Weaver, trying to remain casual as I flicked the cigarette butt away. She didn't need to know just how undone I was by her sudden appearance. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know she was here today, since she hadn't been seen at all in the ER all day.

“Is that your personal or professional opinion, Dr. Weaver?” Smooth, Lockhart, real smooth. A wary smile unexpectedly crept up onto her lips.

“Purely professional. Personally, I'd ask if I could bum one of those off you, because I've had a really shitty week and I think I need a few more vices to help cope.”

Without word, I lit another cigarette and handed it to her.  She took a long draw from it and I found myself mesmerized as I watched the smoke roll out of her mouth. I would have thought that Dr. Weaver was the type to have never smoked a cigarette before.  

“I haven't had one of these since before med school,” she offered. I found myself envisioning a young Kerry Weaver smoking and drinking as an undergrad and let out a little chuckle. The Kerry in front of me looked tired and stressed. She looked sad, also.

“I heard about what that asshole Romano did. I’m sorry that you and Dr. Legaspi didn't work out.” She visibly deflated, and nodded. “It took me awhile to function after I split with the last woman I was with. I hadn't thought of her in years until today, actually. She had the same hair color as you.” Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, wild and feral. She looked like a scared animal that just wanted to bolt. I gave her a small smile that I hoped would assure her.

“I, uh, didn't know you were…gay?” she said in a hushed voice, lest a scandal emerge from talking about it. I shrugged lazily and she took a drag of the cigarette.

“I've been bisexual for a very long time.” Her head cocked to the side and she studied me like she might a critical patient's lab values. I wasn’t sure if she was expecting me to elaborate further on that or not. She looked like she wanted to ask me a million questions and I'm pretty sure I've destroyed her preconception of who she thinks Abigail Lockhart is.

“Will you tell me about her?” That was an unexpected volley from her side of the court, but I've learned to deal with the randomness of life.

“Would- would you like to join me for dinner? We could get some take out and go back to my place. I'll tell you about Anna.” She only considers it for a brief moment before she nods and flicks the cigarette away. Having Dr. Weaver in my apartment to discuss my ex over dinner was going to be awkward and odd, but I guess I’ve hosted stranger people at my place.

* * *

Both of us had severely regretted not driving to work today.

It had started to suddenly pour down rain as soon as we got off of the El and we were both soaked by the time I threw open the door to my apartment. Juggling bags of takeout, I ushered Dr. Weaver in and kicked the door shut behind her. As I quickly turned on a few lights, I nearly collapsed in fits of laughter when I got a good look at her.

The fear inspiring, crutch wielding, tough as nails, no bullshit top dog of County General ER stood in my foyer looking decidedly small and non-threatening. Rain dripped from her hair, plastering her red locks to her forehead. Her wet clothes clung to her and made her look smaller than normal. As she tried to wipe her face dry with a wet sleeve and continued to drip onto my foyer floor, a shiver ran through her from the cold chill of the rain. God, she looked so innocent.

I’m sure I probably look like a drowned rat, and I’m sure she’d agree that I need to get us dried off. Kicking off my sopping shoes, I set the takeout down on the counter. “Stay here, I’ll get you a towel,” I instructed, hurrying off toward the bathroom. I grabbed a towel and quickly peeled off all of my wet clothes, running the towel over my body and through my hair. A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt sat on top of the hamper and were thrown on quickly. No time to mess with dry underwear or bra when Weaver was still dripping in my foyer. I bolted into my bedroom, grabbed another towel, and on second thought, another pair of sweatpants and an old Blackhawks t-shirt for the Chief.

She had kicked off her shoes by the time I got back to her, waiting patiently for me. My heart clenched at the sight of her, so tiny and shivering in the cold. Without thinking, I wrapped the towel around her, pulled her almost against me, and began to dry her off. Her eyes caught mine and I almost gasped and dropped the towel. No. No fucking way.

I know that look that she’s giving me, with those half lidded eyes, and I know what it means. Whether she knew it or not, she was responding with arousal to my touch and I found myself responding with arousal to touching her. Her breathing hitched for just a moment and I had to stop myself immediately, draping the towel over her shoulders. I gave her a quick smile before handing her the dry clothes and pointing towards the bathroom.

“Get out of those wet clothes and let’s eat. I can put your clothes in the dryer if you’d like.” With a small smile and curt nod, she disappeared down the hall and I let out a pained sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding. Snapping out of my reverie, I took the takeout boxes to the kitchen and set them out on the counter. I grabbed a few glasses of water, plates, and forks and set them out too before sitting at my kitchen table and savoring the smells of my favorite dish from my favorite Chinese place. Just as I was about to open my portion of Kung Pao chicken and start hungrily devouring my dinner, a much dryer Kerry crutched in to join me.

I can’t even deal with how adorable she looks in my clothes.

I’m around the same height as her, but the pants that were already pretty big on me were nearly swallowing her slimmer frame up. I’m pretty sure they used to belong to Richard, now that I think of it. The Blackhawks shirt, which I had ‘borrowed’ from my brother Eric, hung off of her slight shoulders.

I’m relatively sure she’s not wearing a bra either.

Like a ravenous animal, she quickly sits down and rips open her portion of shrimp fried rice, luckily not noticing my blatant staring. “God, I’m starving,” she mumbled in between a few shovelfuls of food. I brought a forkful of chicken to my mouth and chewed thoughtfully, my eyes trained on Weaver as she continued to pig out. People at work would shit if they saw this Kerry Weaver, unguarded and ungracefully stuffing her face in old sweatpants and no bra. I doubt too many people had ever seen her unleashed like this.

I’m willing to bet Kim Legaspi has, though.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, when she suddenly tore her eyes from her plate and looked up at me, catching me watch her as I ate my own food. Embarrassed, I looked away quickly, finding my own plate of food highly interesting.

“Abby?” It wasn’t a question so much as an order. I obediently looked back up at her as she had commanded by simply saying my name. There was a smile on her face, though, and her voice was soft. “Tell me about Anna, please?”

Leave it to Weaver to not fuck around and get right to the point.

“She was the most serious girlfriend I had. We met in college and were together for two years. She was an artsy type from Seattle, stereotypical grunge girl.” I felt that summarized my ex pretty well. “When she graduated from University of Illinois, she had to leave me and go back to Seattle. She had already lined up a job there, and I wasn’t going to leave Chicago. Anna broke my heart and it took me two years to get over her. Admittedly, those two years are when my drinking problem started.”

I paused to take a bite of food and she was already so enraptured by my abbreviated story that she had stopped eating and actually put her fork down. She looked like she was bursting with questions that she wanted to ask, but she was too poised and had too much decorum to just point blank ask them.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I doubted that the extent of her personal questions would be limited to just one, but I nodded in consent anyway. After all, I basically invited her over for this inquisition.

“How many women have you slept with?” I almost choked on my food; I wasn’t expecting her to be that direct.

“Four.” In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Was she your first? Anna?”

“No. I actually lost my virginity to a girl named Michelle. We were fifteen and very curious. We snuck around for about four months before she got all religious on me. Made me swear not to tell anyone. I told everyone that Kyle Rainey was my first when I dated him the next year, though.” Her eyebrows shot up and she was definitely engrossed in the story of the deflowering of Abby Lockhart.

“What about you, Dr. Weaver? How many women have you slept with?” She flushed deeply and retreated into the large t-shirt like a turtle into their shell. I meant the question to be nonchalant, to continue the conversation with reciprocation, but her immediate discomfort led me to believe that she was further in the closet than I knew. The mighty Kerry Weaver MD was insecure and embarrassed when it came to her sexuality, and it was a strange picture to see painted on the Kevlar Chief.

“One. Kim is the only woman I've slept with.” Was she actually embarrassed that she had only slept with one woman? Was she embarrassed in general to be discussing her sex life? I reached over and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. Her face was so red that I thought she closely resembled a stop sign.

“There's nothing wrong with that, either. It's not a race or competition.” She considered this for a moment and nodded. “I’m certainly in no position to judge you for who you've slept with.” She then regarded me with a long look, as if she was seeing something very differently all of a sudden after all these years. The confidence snapped back into her gaze.

“You can call me Kerry, you know. Outside of the hospital,” she said slowly, almost in a seductive lilt. She seemed to then realize that she was out of line and turned her attention back to her food. There was silence for a short while as we both paid head to the rest of our food and turned in toward our own thoughts.

Left to my own introspection, my thoughts turned to what had been running through my mind earlier. I couldn’t stop myself from having visions of Dr. Weaver and Dr. Legaspi together in bed. In the shower. Stealing kisses in the elevator at work.

What the hell is wrong with me and why the fuck am I having inappropriate thoughts about the woman in front of me? It sounded stupid to try to attribute this wave of perversion to Weaver’s hair color being the same as Anna’s. That was a weak trigger, because there was literally nothing else even remotely similar about the two. Anna was tall and Weaver is petite. Anna had chocolate brown eyes and Weaver’s are green. Anna was an amazingly talented artist and Weaver is the patron saint of Emergency Medicine.

Did the aftermath of the Romano incident make me see that she’s more than just Kerry Weaver MD? Perhaps her being so exposed by the drama had me seeing a bit of who she really is beyond the lab coat and the bitching at Malucci. This is a woman who was dealt a shitty hand in life, but she still fought on, persevered, and conquered; She’s not easily intimidated and isn’t easily slowed down by her crutch. She’s smart, confident, and tough. This is who _Kerry_ is, and I understand now that I think I like what I see.

Even though I shouldn’t.

“Abby?” She brought me out of my reverie as she broke the silence cautiously, like she was tip-toeing around something. I hoped to God she wasn’t telepathic, because I would have no choice but to just curl up and die if she knew what I was thinking about. “Can I throw my clothes in your dryer for a bit?” Oh yeah. Dryer.

“Yeah, no problem. The laundry room is across the hall from the bathroom. Do you want to watch TV or something while your things dry?” A wide smile crept up on her face; She liked that idea.

“Sounds good. I don’t get to watch much TV and there’s this X-Files marathon on Fox that I’ve been wanting to catch.” My eyebrows flew up in surprise and before I could respond, she had jumped up from her chair and crutched off toward the laundry room. Shaking my head, I put the dishes in the sink and padded to the living room. I slumped down on the couch and turned on the TV, turning to the Fox channel, where Mulder and Scully were on an adventure. She joined me on the couch a minute later, already drawn into the episode. I took a few seconds to watch her covertly as she raptly watched Scully bitch at Mulder. She was really into the scene, her mouth slightly agape, and the hilarity of it made me laugh.

“I didn’t know you were such a geek, Kerry.” She looked at me and blinked a few times before she smirked.

“I prefer the term ‘nerd’, Abby,” she answered, causing me to laugh again. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the TV and I observed her profile. Here in my living room, she was relaxed and natural. She was probably in her early forties, but she still had a youthfulness to her. There was none of the Kevlar that comprised the Kerry Weaver guise that she wore at work, the one that reduced grown men to cowering puddles and got shit done when need be.

A peel of laughter ripped from Kerry and she shifted excitedly on the couch, her leg touching mine. I swallowed hard, trying to fight this _thing_ that was building inside of me and quickly taking over. As I watched her a bit more in this casual state, now gaping at my TV with a goofy grin at Mulder’s antics, a few hard truths hit me.

I don't know how to sort this out but I have an intense, sudden, undeniable crush on Kerry Fucking Weaver.

* * *

I know, without doubt, that I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have confidentially asked Randi to get me Kerry’s schedule earlier (she wrote it down with a smug look - she’s more clever than I give her credit for). I shouldn’t be sitting in my car, parked in front of her house, debating if I should ring her doorbell.

It’s been a month since we ate takeout in my apartment, both donning sweatpants and t-shirts. She only stayed about ninety minutes after we finished eating dinner that night and nothing noteworthy happened, aside from Mulder and Scully chasing aliens. I was surprised that she hung around that long after her clothes dried, but she seemed to be enjoying herself in my casual company.

We’ve gotten together to hang out after work a few more times the past month, usually to watch some TV show or movie that Kerry wanted to see. She’s cooked me dinner at her place a couple of times and we’ve had some great conversations and enjoyed each other’s company. It’s amazing how different she is outside of work; She’s fun and actually rather goofy.

She’s been treating me differently at work the past couple of days. I caught her watching me and she gave me this shy little smirk. She brushed up really close against me when she squeezed past in the crowded trauma bay and I nearly jumped out of my skin. She didn’t get on my ass about the disorder of the drug lockup like she normally did at least once a week. Yesterday she insisted that I join her for lunch at Magoo’s, her treat, where we discussed the finer points of anticoagulants. This morning she had brought me coffee and she somehow knew just the way I like it. When I flung open my locker to get my things and leave after shift, my favorite candy bar sat on the shelf inside and I’m pretty sure I know who it’s from.

_Kerry is flirting with me._

I honestly have no idea how it’s gotten to this point and how it escalated to me sitting outside of her house like a coward. It’s easy to say that I want to take a chance, flirt back with her, and give her this rose that I got for her. I’ve thought about her a lot this month and I’ve accepted that I’m attracted to Kerry and the reasons why, but what escapes me is Kerry’s seeming sudden interest in me. Does my sexuality make me more comfortable to be around for her? Maybe it makes her feel more comfortable with herself and her budding discovery of her own sexuality?

Maybe I’ve totally misread this and she just wants to be close friends. That would be my shit luck.

How could she possibly _like_ me like that though anyway? I’m a fuck-up ex-alcoholic with mommy issues and she’s Kerry. She’s older than me and has her shit together; I do a vaguely passable imitation of an adult. With a sigh, I grab the rose and open my car door, reminding myself that there is no chance of success without risk. I may or may not be many things, but one thing Abigail Lockhart is not going to be any longer is a coward. I need to get this off my chest and she deserves to know how I feel.

_Take a deep breath, Abby. Just breathe._

With the rose clutched in my hand, I walked up to her door with as much confidence as I could dig up. I quickly reminded myself just what the fuck I was doing and started to panic a bit as I rang the doorbell. It took her approximately twenty nine seconds to answer her door, but it might as well have been a millennium. When she finally wrenched the door open, I was greeted by the sounds of the Gin Blossoms blasting from the living room. That was unexpected, because I somehow pegged her for being a classical music fan.

“Abby! Hi!” She was definitely surprised to see me and I felt a bit pleased at throwing the unflappable Kerry Weaver off kilter. She let me in and I took a better inventory of the Chief. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt that had a staff of Asclepius and ‘Class of 1990’ on it. It looked like she was doing some cleaning around her house.

“Hey Kerry. I hope it’s ok that I stopped by. I need to talk to you.” I finally remembered my manners and presented the rose to her, a deep blush settling on my face. Ugh, it’s been a long time since I’ve courted a woman and I feel a bit rusty.

She looks at the rose, gently takes it, and blinks a few times before looking into my eyes and giving me a wide smile. In this moment, she’s nothing like she is at work, and the difference between Kerry and Dr. Weaver is staggering.

“Thanks Abby! It’s beautiful and it’s my favorite color!” _Fuck yeah_. It was worth stealthly needling Carter for information on Kerry. “And it’s no problem at all, you are always welcome here. Come into the living room and sit down, we’ll talk.” With a nervous nod, I follow her and sit lightly on the couch, as if I needed to be ready to quickly exit if things went south. She turned down the music before she joined me on the couch. I didn’t even know how to start this.

“Abby, are you OK?” she asked after a minute of silence. I could only shake my head. A hand quickly grabbed one of mine and squeezed it. “What’s wrong, Ab?”

“I’m- I’m unsure. Nervous.” She frowns now and rubs a thumb over the knuckles of the hand she’s gripping. “I have something I need to tell you, Kerry.”

“What is it? Tell me. I’m here.” I can’t even face her and I have to look away, my resolve totally gone. So much for not being a coward.

“I- . God dammit. This is going to sound really stupid and juvenile but I have a crush on you, Kerry. I have since I found out you were gay, as strange and shallow as that seems. I thought at first that it was because you were a fleeting reminder of Anna. But after we hung out and I got to see the real Kerry, it didn’t take long to figure out that it was your own beauty, strength, intelligence, and confidence that drew me to you. I tried not to fall for you, but it happened so quickly and I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.” Well, there it was. Now I wait for the reaction and prepare for rejection. A few seconds later a finger hooks under my chin and brings my eyes back to hers.

“Oh, Abby,” she says softly, and I close my eyes so I don’t have to meet hers as I die inside. Then, her hand cups my cheek. “Look at me, please, sweetheart.”

I let out a sharp puff of air and open my eyes. She’s smiling.

“Have I really been doing that poor of a job of flirting with you?” I shake my head.

“I knew what you were doing, but I didn’t want to believe that it was real. I couldn’t even begin to imagine that it was real and that you could also feel something for me.” She looked away for just a second before she seemed to make up her mind about something.

“At first, I wasn’t sure what it was that you made me feel. I was so busy being heartbroken and repressed about my sexuality that I told myself that I liked being in your company because you understood. You didn't judge me at all or shame me. I don't know when it clicked in my mind, but I started to see you differently.” I nodded dumbly at her. I was expecting to wake up at any moment and discover that it was all a dream.

“Will you let me show you how real I am and what I feel?” She asked, and I found myself consenting with another nod because I was afraid that my voice would fail me. Her thumb caressed my cheek a few times before she leaned in close to me and pressed her lips to mine, softly and shyly at first. At some point I grabbed onto her shoulders as the kiss deepened over an unknown amount of time. It could have been forty seconds or it could have been five minutes for all I know.

I can't be for sure, but I think I moaned her name as we came up for air. I was drunk off of her kiss and every nerve in my body was overloaded. I’ve kissed my meager share of women and men, but kissing Kerry was an experience that I just wasn’t prepared for.

“God, Abby, that was- Wow.”

“Wow is right. You’re a really good kisser, Kerry,” I responded with a smile, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek. She was blushing.

“So, where do we go from here? What are we doing with this?” she asked, her pupils blown wide in arousal.

“I think I’ve made it clear that I’d like to be more than your friend and colleague, Ker. I'd like to give us a chance.”

“Are you going to be fine with people knowing that we’re involved? People at work? Your family?”

“It never bothered me before. I never hid Anna from anybody and I wasn’t ashamed. Anna and I had enough middle fingers to go around for those who had something to say about it. How about you? Are _you_ going to be OK with people knowing that you’re my girlfriend?”

It was a touchy subject, but I needed her to be one hundred percent with me. I knew that she was uncomfortable with coming out of the closet when she was with Kim, and I hoped that I could help her be brave enough to be out for me. She had a dreamy look on her face as she contemplated it.

“I like the way that ‘my girlfriend’ sounds and I’d be honored to be her. You’ve helped me realize that I shouldn’t hide myself or deny myself and that I deserve to be happy. You’re amazing, Abby, and I’m going to show you just how amazing you are.” My arms wrapped around her and brought her close to me, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“Ker?” Her eyes met mine, eyebrows slightly raised. I flash her a devious grin. “Will you do me a huge favor?”

“Anything for you, babe.”

“Kiss me again.”

A devious grin of her own appears and she tackles me down onto the couch, sending me into a fit of laughter before she straddles me and kisses me senseless.

* * *

I signed off on the last chart of my shift with no small measure of satisfaction and went searching to find an attending to sign off on it so that I could get the hell out of here. I found Luka first in the lounge and made nominal small talk as he signed what I needed him to. Carter and Chen were milling about their lockers, getting ready to start their shifts, and I gave them a small wave.

“Hot date tonight?” Luka asked, sensing I was a bit distracted.

“Actually, yeah.” His thick eyebrows flew up in amusement. “I’m cooking dinner for her tonight and still need to stop by the store.” He was about to ask what I knew he was going to when the lounge door flew open and Kerry crutched in. A big smile immediately played on my lips at seeing her.

_It was only two nights ago that I showed up at her house to admit that I had feelings for her. I arrived with no expectations of any sort except rejection, and I ended up with a new girlfriend by the end of the night. I hadn’t planned to go this far this soon, but Kerry and I had sex that night. She begged me to spend the night with her, and I obliged because she’s irresistible. I don’t think I could have kept my hands off of her for long anyway._

_Jesus Christ it was amazing being with her._

_She was so beautiful and delicious and perfect when she came for me. I don’t even think she knows how overwhelmingly sexy she is when she’s unchained like that. As she explored and claimed my body, expertly ripping an intense orgasm from my soul, I didn’t think I could ever know such pleasure. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time because I didn’t think I could lose control that fast or that hard._

_We took each other over and over that night and slept in each other’s arms; I woke before her the next morning and watched her sleep. It was breathtaking to watch the leaden Doctor in a vulnerable and relaxed state and I knew then that there was no way that I couldn’t want her._

“Hey Luka, MVA in trauma three, ten minutes,” she greeted as she ambled over. I had to shake myself out of my haze of the memories of the other night. “Hey Abby.” She gave me a warm smile and I could sense Luka’s eyes going back and forth between us. She then grabbed my forearm and came in closer to me. “I’ll be over at seven, OK?”

Looks like we’re going public already.

I gave her a confident nod and a smile. She shocked the hell out of me and everyone else in the room when she then leaned in and kissed me. Kerry kissed me right in the middle of the lounge and didn’t even give a fuck. With a quirked eyebrow to the other three, she gave me another quick kiss before bounding out of the lounge, leaving me blinking in astonishment. She's come flying out of the closet at full speed, barrelling me over and dragging me along her way. It’s ok, though, because I wanted to be totally out about us; I have no shame in being with an incredible woman like Kerry.

“Ah, your date for the evening,” Luka quipped, an amused smile on his face. Carter had a smug, knowing look on his face. Chen looked slightly dazed. She had probably never seen two women kiss before.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my new girlfriend, Kerry Weaver,” I replied with a shrug.

“Are you sure you can handle her, Lockhart?” Carter asked, and Luka snickered. I rolled my eyes and made my way to my locker.

“This isn't my first rodeo. I can _handle_ her just fine, Carter,” I replied, drawing a playful scoff from Carter while Luka shook his head and blushed slightly. Chen looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

As I opened my locker, I immediately noticed that Kerry had left me a small package of Hershey’s Kisses. I pocketed them with a smile before grabbing my purse and closing my locker. I'm going to have to ask her how she got my locker combo. Not that I'm complaining about it, of course.

I gave the gang a wave as I left the lounge. I saw Kerry standing at the desk, waiting for the trauma, and I slid in behind her to toss my chart into the completed bin.

“Thanks for the Kisses babe, but I'm going to have to lodge a complaint with my boss about you breaking into my locker,” I whispered in her ear, as I wrapped my arm around her waist. She turned and gave me an evil smirk.

“I have some more Kisses for you if you don't tell on me.” I smiled at her and playfully went in for a quick kiss on her cheek, in front of everybody, in response. It wasn't a kiss on the lips like she had given me in the lounge, but you can only traumatize so many co-workers a day. I think it's in the policy manual.

“I'll take the rest of those kisses for dessert later,” I purred. Randi looked up from her magazine and popped her gum loudly.

“Get a room, you two,” Randi huffed, turning back to her reading. Haleh and Chuny looked at each other and were muttering something about domestication when the trauma burst through the squad doors. I gave Kerry’s arm a squeeze and she bounded off after the patient.

 

* * *

I was just putting the finishing touches on the beef stroganoff and egg noodles when the doorbell rang. I looked at the clock on the oven and smiled: 7 o’clock on the dot. Of course Kerry was on time.

“Come in, Ker!” I yelled out, and the door opened and closed a second later, admitting Kerry. She had a small gym bag over her shoulder, which she set down before coming over and wrapping an arm around my waist,peering down into the skillet and sniffing appreciatively.

“It smells delicious. I'm starving!” I turned and gave her a sweet kiss, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. This woman was already addictive.

“I'm very happy to see you. I've missed you.” She rolled her eyes and I silenced her with another kiss before she could make the obvious remark that it had only been three hours since we saw each other. “Are you spending the night, baby?”

“Yeah. I took the liberty of doing some schedule rearranging. We both have the next two days off now and I'd like to spend it here with you.” My eyebrows flew up. This woman had a few tricks up her sleeve, it seems.

“You got someone to work for me on Sunday? How? Did you threaten someone? Extort their family?” She laughed at my volley of questions, throwing her head back and exposing her beautiful neck.

“Let’s just say that I know the boss, and the bitch owes me a few favors. She agreed that you needed a vacation day.”

“So, I get you for the next forty eight hours, all to myself?” She nodded the affirmative with a cocky smile.

“Yes, Ma’am. Ideally, I’ll be spending a lot of those hours having sex with you.” I rid my face of emotion as I peered into her bright, playful eyes.

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” Her face immediately fell.

“I- what? Abby- ” She took a step back from me unconsciously and looked sick.

“I want to spend that time _making love_ to you instead. It may seem rather quick to use that term, but I don’t want to just have sex with you. What we did the other night was too intense, too amazing to be just sex.”

Her eyes narrowed as she came closer again and smacked my ass, hard, both relieved and irritated. I gave her a smug look. She had no idea how much that turned me on.

“Damn you, Abigail Lockhart, for playing with my heart like that.” She gave my ass another hard smack and I chuckled before I brought her into my arms again, stealing another kiss from her. “You’re so _bad_.”

“Yes, and I’m hungry too. Let’s sit down and eat.” I led her to a chair at the table and pulled it out for her, pushing it in as she sat down. I got back to the stove, my stomach growling, and plated up dinner. Her tongue darted out slightly and licked her lips when I set her plate in front of her.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” I asked as I turned back to the kitchen. “Normally I have some sort of soda stashed in the fridge but it looks like I drank it all.”

“Water is just fine. Doctor approved, even.” She's such a smart-ass and I love it.

Depositing the water glasses down, I took up my own chair and we began eating. Kerry attacked the food vigorously, like a starved dog; If I know her, she probably skipped lunch as usual.

“God, this is great, Ab. I may have to keep you around just for your stroganoff,” Kerry teased, enthusiastically spearing up more noodles with her fork. She let out a small moan as she hungrily stuffed the noodles in her mouth.

“I'm glad you like it. It's my grandmother's recipe,” I replied, enjoying my own forkful. She smiled up at me and slurped up a few more noodles, leaving no doubt that she was enjoying Grandma Elaine’s signature dish. I watched her for a moment as I ate, fascinated by the look of rapture as she took down the plate of food. After a minute she looked up and caught me staring.

“What?” she asked, mouth full of food. I let out a laugh at the lapse of class that Kerry had allowed herself in my presence.

“You're so damn _cute_.”  She blinked at me a few times and her cheeks turned pink.

“I- No one has ever called me cute before.”

“That’s a Goddamn shame,” I said, with a shake of my head. “I’m just going to have to call you cute four hundred times a day to make up for it.” She stared at me incredulously for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes.

“You’re ridiculous, babe.”

“And you’re also irresistibly sexy.” The blush on her face deepened and she looked down at her plate. God, what had Legaspi and Kerry’s assortment of exes done to her self-esteem? What about her ex-husband? They had to be blind to not see what a treasure Kerry truly is.

She picked at her food now, silent and contemplative as her eyes refused to meet mine yet. I finished my food a minute later, setting my fork down.

“Baby?” I reached over to tilt her chin up so she would look at me. “What’s wrong, Ker?” A slow sigh escaped her.

“I- I just don’t know how to take compliments like that. I’ve never been able to reconcile the Kerry Weaver that my partners have seen. I don’t know who the person is that they called beautiful and sexy.”

“Oh, sweetie, it breaks my heart that you can’t see the woman I do.” How did Legaspi, a well respected shrink, not see how insecure and scared she is and try to help her through it?

I left my seat and went around to her chair, holding out a hand for her to take and stand with me. When she stood, I took her into my arms and gave her a gentle kiss before I peered into the depths of her green eyes. Still holding her hand, I slowly backed out of the kitchen, taking her with me.

“Where are you taking me, Ab?” she warily asked. I gave her a smile and squeezed her hand.

“I’m taking you to my bed for the next few hours to show you just how beautiful and sexy you are.” I could almost hear the protest on her lips, a struggle imminent, but then she seemed to think better of it and obediently followed me to my bedroom.

 

* * *

Everyone knows about us.

I finally told my Mom and Eric about Kerry a couple of weeks ago. They had known a long time ago that I wasn’t totally straight and therefore weren’t really too shocked. Mom’s response was ‘Oh, the redhead that helped me find you in the ER that one day? OK.’. Eric was even less fussed and simply asked to meet her sometime soon. It was almost surreal how easy this was with Ker.

Our co-workers were pretty surprised, but they’ve been largely receptive to it. I endured being interrogated about my sexuality by an alarming amount of people for a while, patiently and blandly explaining the concept of what bisexual meant to the confused masses. By all rights I should have lost my temper after explaining myself for the fiftieth time, but I kept myself in check. It wouldn’t do for me to get in trouble at work for punching the next person who insisted that I was just confused and hadn’t found the right man yet. I need to be better than that for Kerry.

Kerry had another little incident with Romano earlier this week when word had reached him that we were together. The unfortunate subhuman shit stain had the balls to loudly interrogate Kerry about a rumor he had heard that she had ‘lowered herself to fucking nurses now’. With no class what so ever, he had ambushed her with this in the middle of the ER. My girl stood tall and faced him down right there, in front of everyone, furiously reminding Romano that who she’s sleeping with is not his concern. She made me so proud when she also added that if he wasn’t such a miserable asshole that he might be getting laid as well.

It occurred to me tonight, as I pull up to Kerry’s house after work and head towards her front door, just how much it took for her to do that. She bravely defended me, our relationship, and most importantly herself to ‘Rocket’ Romano. She’s come so far from the broken hearted woman that had split up with her first girlfriend and I’m thankful everyday that she’s mine now.

“Kerry?” I called out as I cleared my thoughts and entered the darkened house, bypassing knocking on her front door and just walking in; We’ve been together for about three months now and this had become the status quo recently. It’s understood that at this point, we’re no longer just guests at each other’s places. I have clothes and necessities stashed at Kerry’s place and she has hers stashed at mine so that we don’t have to leave in the morning before work to go back home. It’s the most sensical arrangement and it’s convenient. At least that’s what I tell myself. If I’m honest, it’s also really fucking nice to fall asleep and wake up to her. I miss her terribly and don’t sleep as well on the occasional nights that sleeping over isn’t feasible.

“Baby, where are you?” There were absolutely no lights on in her house and I’m starting to get both concerned and irritated.

“I’m in the bedroom, Ab,” she called out and I navigated my way back to the master suite in the dark. I suppose I could turn on a light or two, but I just wanted to get to Kerry and give her a kiss. I was intrigued when I saw what I thought was the flicker of candlelight from under the bedroom door. With a slight frown, I pushed the door open and was greeted by a sight that made me melt.

Kerry stood by the bed, holding a bouquet of roses and basked in candlelight. She smiled and moved forward to present the fragrant thorned flowers to me. I couldn’t help but return her smile and accept the flowers, giving them a deep, appreciative sniff. She then wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with such a sweetness that I didn’t think Kerry possessed.

“I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too, honey. What’s all this?” I queried, referring to the candles and the roses.

“I wanted to tell you something important and I wanted it to be perfect when I did tell you.” My eyebrows shot up. I was definitely curious and more worried than I had been.

“What is it baby? What do you need to tell me?” In response, she took the roses from me and set them down on the nightstand before leading me by the hand to sit on the edge of the bed with her. Her thin hand squeezed mine.

“Luka’s brought it to my attention that there was something that I should let you know because I won’t be able to contain it much longer.” I was frowning now.

“What’s going on, Kerry? Is everything alright?”

“It couldn’t be more alright, because I’m so happy right now. I’m so in love with you Abby, and I don’t want you to go another minute without knowing that. I love you.” I froze in a contented state of shock for just a second before a huge smile lit up my own face.

“I love you too, Kerry. God, I love you so fucking much.” I pulled her close and lovingly kissed her, my eyes wet with the gravity of emotion from the exchange of those words. She’s in love with me and I’m hopelessly in love with her. Kerry and I have come so far in just a few months, both as a couple and individually. She doesn’t hide her true self anymore and is becoming comfortable with her sexuality. As for me, well I haven’t felt this happy and complete in years.

“I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while, Ab,” she said softly, cupping my cheek with her hand like she did the first time she kissed me. “It took the bullshit with Romano and Luka giving me a kick in the ass to make me realize that I needed to tell you soon. You’re too important to me to not know how crazy I am about you.” I tearfully smiled at her and kissed her again.

“I have to confess that it’s been about a month since I realized that what I felt for you had a name,” I replied. “I wasn’t sure what it was at first, because I had never felt anything like this with anyone else I’d been with. When I figured out that I was irrevocably in love with you, I was too afraid to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off or go too fast for you.” Now she had tears in her eyes. I reached up and wiped them from her face.

“Look at us, Ker. We're getting weepy over how in love we are,” I said with a chuckle. She gave me a soggy shit-eating grin in response.

“God, imagine if our colleagues could see us like this, all pathetic and mushy. Our reputations would be shot.” My eyebrows flew up in astonishment.

“I'm pretty sure our reputations were shot when you kissed me right in the middle of the lounge.” She casually shrugged.

“I'm not hiding who I am anymore. I'm gay and I’m in love with you. That’s who Kerry Weaver is now and I’m not sorry I kissed you at work.” She crossed her arms and her gaze seemed to harden. Ah, there’s the defiance in her that I adore breaking through.

_Kerry has such a duality about her that fascinates me, turns me on, and keeps me on my toes. She’s so sensitive sometimes, in private with me, that I fear I may break her. Other times, she’s the hard-ass Queen Bitch of the ER. She’s walled off and professional at work, while at home with me she’s carefree and relaxed. She’s likely to be found reading some boring medical journal in the public forum of the hospital, but she loves to nerd out over Star Trek and bad sci-fi movies in private. Her emotions are under control and always in check at work, but she’s come home a few nights and broke down in my arms when she’s lost a patient. Some might say she’s a bit blunt and rough, but she can be so achingly gentle with me when she makes love to me._

_My girl is both fire and ice._

“Oh, believe me, I’m not sorry you kissed me at work either. I’m not ashamed of who I am or that I’m in love with you,” I reassured her, leaning in and pressing my forehead against hers. My hand snaked up to cup the back of her head and kiss her softly, eliciting a moan from her as we parted.

“Abby, I need- “ I cut her off with another kiss and gently laid her back on the bed; I knew exactly what she needed and was glad to oblige. She moaned again and arched up into me as I straddled her hips. Her eyes hooded with desire, she then grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down on top of her. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ker.” With a sly smile, she boldly kissed me, the heat of her need igniting a fierce fire of passion between us.

 

* * *

EPILOGUE

After a month or so of planning, scheming, rearranging, and fretting we were finally in Boston. The flight from Chicago had been turbulent and I was thankful that Kerry brought some Scopolamine for motion sickness. It felt good to be off the plane and decompress for a second in the welcoming terminal of Boston Logan International Airport.

We’ve both been here before, but we weren’t here on just any ordinary vacation or even another lame work conference, though. Massachusetts is the first state to legalize same sex marriages and we’ve come here to get married.

Actually, eloping would be a better term to use, if I’m honest.

We haven’t told anyone, not even family, about the true intention behind our trip to Beantown. Kerry simply arranged for us to have a “long weekend” off of work. After three years, no one questions Kerry when the Chief makes “adjustments” to the schedule. No one even knew that Kerry had proposed to me two months ago in a surprise ambush at home with me wearing smelly scrubs after a twelve hour shift. Of course she had a fucking beautiful engagement ring for me, but I didn’t dare wear it to work yet. We weren’t quite ready to share that news with anyone else. We wanted to do this rather quickly and wouldn’t have had time to distribute the good news to everyone properly. They’d figure it out when I came back from Boston as Mrs. Abby Weaver.

I decided to take her last name because it was finally time to abandon my ex-husband’s last name. Also, my maiden name is hideous and I couldn’t, in good consciousness, subject Kerry to it.   

“We’re finally here. This is it!” Kerry said, cutting into my thoughts. She had been excitable all day and was practically buzzing with nervous energy. We were getting married at the municipal court at nine thirty tomorrow morning. I was getting nervous too as the time approached, but I gave her a steady smile.

“Here come the brides,” I sing songed, grabbing her hand to hold on to as we made our way to the baggage claim.  We beat our luggage to the claim, so we stood off to the side, observing the chaos while we waited.

A cranky toddler was making his wary mother miserable. An older married couple divided up the sections of a newspaper between them and happily smiled at each other. A college age guy was on the phone with what had to have been his girlfriend, a possessive one at that, continuously reassuring her that he had just landed and that he had called her immediately.

“Well, it’s your last night as a single woman, Ker,” I murmured. She wrapped her arm around my waist and beamed at me, giving my hip bone a light squeeze.

“I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.” I turned slightly and brought her in for a hug.

“It’s finally dawning on me that I’m going to be your wife in twelve hours.” She looked a bit weighed down by the enormity of that for a few seconds, but then she gave me an even bigger smile. Fuck, I love her so much.

“Oh my God. You’re going to be my fucking wife, Abby,” she said softly, in disbelief. My eyebrows shot up in shock because she’d never normally use such language. I must be rubbing off on her. I can’t help but giggle at that for a moment before I heave a sigh.

“And you’re going to be _my_ fucking wife, Kerry.” We both flew into fits of laughter, delirious from the long day, flight, and anticipation. Suddenly the baggage claim came to life and the klaxon above it sounded, automatically propelling us towards the luggage that was now coming through. In a stroke of luck, our luggage was the first out and we escaped the crowd out into the crisp Boston night to hail a taxi.

Kerry yawned beside me and I let out a yawn of my own. It would be nice to get to our hotel and get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.

It’s the start of the rest of our lives together, after all.


End file.
